No copyright infringement intended.

Someone is thrown under the bus.

James nods, rather grim. Is he waiting for the executioner or what?

He offers the documents to me, avoiding eye contact. I read through them.

There's my birth certificate and the naturalization papers. My 'passport', so to speak. In case the authorities decide to stop me on my way home for questioning. And under all that I find a marriage certificate.

It seems legit, for all that I can tell. I've never been married before.

It's signed by a Justice of the Peace, dated for yesterday.

One of the witnesses has signed as "Steve Rogers."

Steve, as in James' friend?

"It's him," my husband says. "Wonder why he's decided to let us go through with it."

Since I don't know the guy, I can't tell whether he thinks it's a good prank or romantic. "So, this seems legal."

James sinks into himself like my mother's soufflés.

"I'm so sorry," he rushes out, eyes wide.

I hold up a hand to stop him. "It's not your fault. As far as I can remember, it was our idea. Not yours. And there's at least one person who knows what you're like when you get crazy ideas in your head while drunk. I'm a bit surprised no one stopped us at the courthouse either."

My husband grins. "I'm surprised someone was still there and willing to marry us."

"True. What was he doing there after eleven? That can't be legal."

Have we accidentally crashed someone's mafia wedding?

James nods, but sighs. "We should probably talk about what to do from here."

He keeps his distance from me, still.

"Well, do you want to try to get a divorce?" It's not easy, by any stretch of the imagination, but it's doable.

"No," he replies, before his brain engages. "Not unless you want one?"

I think about it.

Marriage has never appealed to me. In either life. Mostly because the men here are rather overwhelmingly sexist pigs and same-sex marriage is still illegal. Back in the before, I'd given up on ever finding someone who'd accept me and my quirks.

"I'd like to give it a try first. To see if we're compatible enough to work it out."

Some of the shadows lift from his face. The tension in his shoulders lessens as well.

"Can we cuddle, please?"

He's by my side in an instant.

We end up lying side by side, legs entwined, and arms wrapped around each other.

"I want to keep working," I tell him. "That's non-negotiable."

James nods slowly, but is serious as he declares: "I can take care of you."

Sighing, I kiss his cheek. "I've not trained for nothing. Nursing is the closest I'll be able to get to helping other people. It's important to me."

He squeezes my hip gently. "Alright."

Then I roll my eyes. "I'll be fired anyway once they hear I'm married. At the latest when I'm preggy."

I might be a bit bitter about that, actually.

For a moment, he's utterly quiet.

"Do you want kids?" James asks, face as expressionless as he can manage.

Physically, officially, I'm just 19 years old.

The first time around, I couldn't take care of myself - much less anyone else. Debilitating depression will do that to you.

But I'm not really 19 in this life. Besides, nothing matures you faster than a world war.

My eyes trace his face.

James is precious to me; not just because he's hands down the most attractive person ever.
It's the way he asks for my opinion, sincerely asks, which so few of the people around me this side of death do. The way his kindness and generosity express themselves in how he treats not just me, but others. (Because even though he plays down the role he has in Steve's life, I can read between the lines.)

That's why I want to give this a shot.

...although the hotness factor helps. A lot.

Do I want children? Neither of my parents are exactly stellar examples. But my husband (my husband!) is young, and healthy, by all accounts, and he will be drafted at some point. If he doesn't end up volunteering.

"I want to try," I decide eventually. "Don't know how much good I'll be, I have no idea how babies work. Watching my little brother when my mother was busy isn't enough training."

James beams. His whole face is lit up.

He tugs me along as he rolls to lie on his back.

"I - thank you!"

Then I'm showered in kisses.

Laughing, I return the attack, enjoying the moment.